The Right Incentive
by luvsanime02
Summary: Bucky needs the right incentive to finish his writing.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Marvel comics or characters or movies, and am making no money off of this fic.

**AN: **Written for the May 1st Take Your Fandom To Work Day and the May 3rd Winterhawk Mandatory Fun Day.

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**The Right Incentive **by luvsanime02

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Bucky Barnes can't think of the right word.

He's been writing quite diligently, for once. His fingers have barely paused in the last half an hour, and sentence after sentence has appeared in his word document almost as though they've been transferred there directly from his thoughts.

And now, he's stuck. Bucky can't type anything more, because he can't think of the exact word that he wants to use next, and he hates when this happens. Do all other writers have to deal with this, too? Being pulled right out of their writing rhythm so suddenly like this? It's very annoying.

Bucky sits there and taps his fingers against the coffee table, trying desperately to keep his thoughts moving and not lose the pattern of typing that's been going so well for him today. He doesn't want to get stuck right now, or not for very long, but he really can't think of the word that he wants to use right there. What the hell is that called again?

Rest? No, not that. Pause? No. Stop, wait, stand still, halt - no, no, no, no!

Bucky forces himself to take a slow breath. He starts muttering the words quietly to himself, repeating the sentence that he's in the middle of over and over, hoping desperately to jog his brain into working properly again.

He knows this word. At any other time, Bucky would be able to think of the word easily, but not right now, of course. Not when he really needs to remember it. He opens up a Google tab, despite his resolution to minimize the internet while he's writing, because he needs to look up this word, damn it.

Even worse is that Bucky knows there are websites now specifically for situations like this one, where you can type in a description and, in theory, the word that you're looking for will be generated. He just can't remember what any of them are called. Then again, Bucky's never had much luck with those sites the couple of times that he's tried to use them.

Still, at least it would be something other than typing synonyms into Google and hoping desperately that the right word will come up. He needs this word. Bucky's brain won't let him continue on with the story until he finds it.

"Lapse?" a familiar voice asks behind him.

Bucky makes a sound that's embarrassingly similar to a moan of pleasure, and he quickly types in the correct word so that he can finish the damn sentence, and then continue the paragraph, and-

He's back into the rhythm of typing like he never lost it in the first place, which is incredibly lucky, and Bucky sighs in relief. "Thanks," he mutters, eyes still on the screen.

A cup of coffee is set down beside his arm, though far enough away that he shouldn't bump into it accidentally, and then Clint lays a soft kiss against his temple. "No problem," he says, and eases himself into the chair opposite Bucky with his own cup of coffee in his hands.

Bucky glances up briefly, and sees Clint looking perfectly happy to be there, in a busy coffee shop, while basically being ignored as Bucky types frantically. Clint's watching Bucky, watching his face as he writes, and normally that kind of attention would irritate Bucky and break his concentration.

He never seems to mind when Clint watches him, though. Clint's mentioned before that he loves how intense Bucky's expression is while he's writing, and if watching him is what Clint wants to do with his free afternoon while Bucky writes, then that's fine with him.

And if Clint's going to read his mind and offer up the right word whenever Bucky gets stuck, then Clint can stay there and watch Bucky every time that he writes.

"I'll give you a blowjob later as a proper thank you," he says, and Clint's cup makes a loud clunk as it hits the table.

"...How long did you say you wanted to write for?" Clint asks in a casual tone. His foot starts caressing Bucky's leg under the table.

Bucky smirks. "Another two hours," he says blandly, and chuckles at the impatient nudge he gets in response. "Less, if you're good until then," he adds.

Clints huffs, and pretends he's not amused, and Bucky's full attention goes back to his writing. After all, he needs to get his goal for today done as quickly as possible. It always helps to have an incentive, and with Clint Barton sitting across from him and pretending he's not turned on when they both know that he is, Bucky has plenty of motivation to finish his work now.


End file.
